


last christmas, I gave you my heart

by katniss_annabeth_luna_mellark



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katniss_annabeth_luna_mellark/pseuds/katniss_annabeth_luna_mellark
Summary: My CSSS tumblr gift for a_city_dove!Little AU I decided to write based off one of my Christmas drabbles :) Thanks to katana_fleet for beta-ing!





	

**Author's Note:**

> My CSSS tumblr gift for a_city_dove!  
> Little AU I decided to write based off one of my Christmas drabbles :) Thanks to katana_fleet for beta-ing!

Emma hadn't meant to end up in detention. Truthfully. She just couldn't stand seeing younger or weaker kids being picked on. It reminded her too much of herself. So she had a habit of defending them, and she rarely got away scotch-free.

So of course, with a glare and a pink detention slip, her teacher sent her outside, whispering to her as she left the room. “Ingrid will be very disappointed in you.”

Ingrid, her current foster mother, always pushed her more than the other kids at the home, expecting more from her. In a way, it brought them together until they were closer than Emma had ever been with a foster parent. Emma was thankful for that now, but she hadn't always felt that way.

It was close to Christmas and detention currently involved putting up decorations around the school. Emma scoffed whenever she saw couples kissing under mistletoe or Christmas lights flickering in hallways. Christmas had never been that cheerful in her experience. Emma sighed as she found the room she'd been sent to. Gritting her teeth, she entered slowly, only to be stopped in her tracks by the boy standing on the other side of the room.

“Who the hell are you?” Emma asked, folding her arms across her chest. She didn't recognise the boy. Well, that's not quite true. She'd seen him around the school, but never spoke to him, never had any classes with him. He quickly turned, eyes wide with surprise.

“You're not very polite are you, lass?” The boy responded, raising an eyebrow and looking pointed at her. His accent was identifiably British, bright blue eyes contrasting against his dark hair. 

Emma frowned as she moved her way further into the class, slamming her bag on the closest table and sitting on it. “Don't know why I should be. You’re in detention which probably means you don't deserve it.”

The boy let out a deep laugh and began moving closer to her, hands full with tinsel and baubles. Placing them on the table behind him, he rocked onto the balls of his feet all the while keeping his eyes on her. “I should point out that you are also in detention. But,” he narrowed his eyes, lips lifting to form a smile. Emma had to admit he wasn't unattractive, “lucky for you, I'm always a gentleman.” He stuck his hand out between them, “Killian Jones, pleasure to meet you.”

Emma squirmed on the table as she unfolded her arms and shook his hand, eyes still critical. “Emma,” she replied cooly. Taking her by surprise, Killian raised their joined hands to his lips, ready to place a kiss on her hand. Startled, Emma quickly pulled back, putting her hands under her thighs. Killian let out a self-deprecating chuckle as he looked at the floor. Emma looked around the room at the décor already placed around the room. Breaking the awkward silence, she spoke up. “What'd you do to end up here?” she queried, voice still guarded but genuinely curious.

Killian's head snapped up, eyes once again meeting hers. Clearing his throat, he opened his mouth as if to speak, only to stop.

“Uh, it's a long story.” Emma raised her eyebrows, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, chin in her hands. Killian laughed and leant against the table opposite hers. “Okay, uh, you know Milah?” Emma nodded, briefly recalling the girl who had left the state a few weeks ago. Killian continued, “Well, we used to date. One day, as you know, she up and left. Not just me, the whole bloody state.” Emma cringed at the hurt in his voice. Getting ready to apologise, he kept going. “I just found out the reason.” Killian paused, clearing his throat again. “Basically, Gold hurt her. So she left. And he now has a broken jaw.”

Emma had heard about Gold, known for getting girls, treating them like trash, then leaving them heartbroken. Emma tried to formulate a response, but came up short.

“Good on you. For fighting back I mean.” She said, voice soft. Killian sent her a lopsided smirk before shaking his head.

“What about you?” He asked, mimicking her position. Emma laughed at his impersonation, leaning back on her hands. She looked around the room looking for a way to get out of speaking, but ended up just looking at him.

“Let’s just say I have a habit of defending the innocent against the lower members of society.”

Killian let out a laugh, loud and pure. It was contagious, Emma finding herself laughing right back. Once they'd calmed down, Killian slapped his legs and moved to get up, turning back to the decorations. “Well then,” he said, “don't suppose you happen to have magic at hand to hang up these decorations?”

Emma's smile dampened at the prospect of Christmas and shook her head. “I'm more of a 'sit and do nothing' kind of girl, sorry.” Killian turned and glared at her, the laughter lines around his eyes spoiling the stubborn gesture.

“You're not a Christmas person then?” he replied, walking to the front of the room and laying tinsel along the blackboard. Emma narrowed her eyes. “I never said that.”

“Didn't have to.” He shot back. Rolling her eyes at his back, Emma recrossed her arms and sat stubbornly as Killian continued around the room.

It was a few minutes later that Emma felt the first bauble hit her. Turning around, she saw Killian's impish grin looking back at her, arm ready to throw another. The taunting glimmer in his eyes spurred her on, throwing the ball back at him.

“Oh, you've started a war now.” He said, running to close and lock the door to the hallway. Emma made no move to get up. “Killian, you're already in detention, you really want to get into more trouble?”

He leant against the door frame, eyes still shining like a kid in a sweets store. “Take a leap of faith, Swan.” The challenge was too hard to resist.

Many dented baubles and broken tinsel chains later, the war ended when Killian dumped a tub of glitter on her head.

“KILLIAN!” She shrieked, reaching up to grab some from her hair and blowing it in his direction. He tried to run but Emma chased him. Little did she know, he'd ran for the decorations table where more glitter waited. Eyes widening, she backed away slowly as he reached for another pot. She was breathless from laughing but was having the most fun she'd had in a long time.

She turned to run, hoping to catch him off guard, but his arms wrapped around her waist instantly as he was suddenly right behind her. He swung her around as they both laughed until they were sick.

No doubt they had some funny looks as they walked out of detention covered in glitter.

–

Emma came home to find a message waiting from Killian on her phone. Her fingers hovered over the keypad, trying to decide whether to respond, trying to ignore the doubts and questions in her mind.

Like how he'd even gotten her number in the first place.

Then she remembered what he'd said to her earlier.

_ Take a leap of faith. _

So she texted back.

–

The next day at school was perhaps the strangest school experience of Emma's life. And by strange, she meant pleasant.

Moving from school to school, no friends ever seemed to come Emma's way. She didn't mind; she knew getting attached would only lead to sadness when it came to saying the inevitable goodbye. It seemed to haunt her like an ever present shadow.

_ Don't get attached. Don't make friends. _

Her foster parents always told her it would be good to find someone to study with, even just talk with. But she saved herself the heartbreak.

Until that day after meeting Killian Jones in detention.

They'd talked the night before for as long as she could, or at least until the young boy sharing her room had gone to sleep. Emma half expected him to have forgotten about her the next day, but as she walked into school the next day, she felt an arm go around her shoulder. Jerking suddenly, she felt the grip tighten.

“Hey Swan, how are you on this fine morning?” His accent was just as crisp and beautiful as the day before, the smirk that seemed to be plastered on his face looking down at her. She quickly relaxed and shook him off her. 

“Killian, stop it.”

He moved somewhat reluctantly, pulling back with a look of mock hurt. “You wound me, lass. Whyever should I?” Emma continued on her way, silently begging him to stop. When he kept up with her, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side of the hallway near the lockers. “Look, I do my best to, you know, blend in and not get noticed around here. You and your lack of understanding of personal space kinda ruins that.”

Killian cocked an eyebrow at her, head tilting to the side. “And why would that be, Emma? Surely someone with such a lovely disposition would be loved by all.” Emma didn't answer, crossing her arms and putting on her best glare.

Lots of topics had come up in their messages the night before, including a brief discussion about her current home situation. Killian had pestered her with vague, seemingly unrelated questions and Emma had pretended to be otherwise oblivious. She'd told him the bare minimum: that she lived in foster care and moved about every few months.

So now, the question having been asked, Emma thought he should be able to guess the answer. Killian was still looking at her, now slightly skeptically as she stared into space. “Ah, I see.” He begins, his voice humorous yet still sincere. “Don't wanna get attached.”

Emma unfolded her arms and threw them up in the air. “Exactly.” She stopped suddenly, then stuttered. “Not that I'd get attached to the school for any reason. Or any of the people here. Like,  _ any of them. _ ”

Killian raised his eyebrows and nodded mockingly at her, humouring her denial. “Whatever you say, Swan.” With a nod, Emma brushed passed him and made her way to first period.

–

Lunch was when things  _ really _ started to get out of hand. That morning, a dance had been announced, some Christmas celebration for the students.

Normally that meant Emma would stay at home as if it was an ordinary night. But when lunch came, Killian certainly didn't have the same idea.

“Come to the dance with me,” he said as he slid onto the bench opposite her. Emma, mi way through a bite of yet another quality high school meal, almost choked. Killian, to his credit, quickly walked over to her side of the table and gave her a light pat on the back. Sliding in next to her, he leant his elbows on the bench, looking into her eyes. “I'm not kidding. I think it's rude you haven't given me an answer frankly.”

Emma slowly moved her fork back to the try in front of her and bit her lip nervously, not knowing what to say. “Killian, I can't. You  _ know  _ I can't. I...” She searched for an excuse.

It's not the actual going to the dance that frightened her, especially not with Killian as her date. She tried to deny it, but anyone could see how attractive he was. And he was so  _ understanding _ , at least with her. She could feel her walls slowly coming down.

No. It was what came  _ after _ that scared her. Because once she let herself relax and join in, it would all go away. And with Killian, Emma wasn't sure if she could handle that.

“...don't have the money. The ticket's $20.” She tried to sound indifferent but she was sure she didn't. Killian shrugged as if there was no problem. “I'll pay for you. It would be an honour, lass. I'll even buy you a pretty dress.” He chucked in a smirk at the last part, otherwise completely sincere in his offer.

“I can get my own dress.” Emma replied dryly, going back to her lunch. She tried to ignore the cocky grin that formed on his face. “That a yes, Emma?”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and saw hopeful eyes looking back at her. She thought back to what he'd told her.

_ Take a leap of faith. _

Had that really been only yesterday? In the last 24 hours alone she'd spoken at school more than she ever had. One thing was for sure: meeting Killian Jones in detention had had an effect.

Letting out a sigh and closing her eyes, she gathered her courage.

“If I say yes, will you let me eat my lunch in peace?” A nod. “Then yes, I'll go.”

The true dork he was, Killian did a little fist bump motion in the air. Emma gave him a pointed look to remind him of the deal. He quickly pressed a light kiss to her cheek as he bounced off back to his table. Cheeks turning red, she ducked her head closer to the bench and kept eating, finding it harder to concentrate on the truthfully disgusting 'food'.

–

A week went by and Killian hadn't backed out yet. Not that Emma had really expected him to after everything, but she couldn't help but feel cautious. There had been other parties, other boys, and they all ended in heartbreak of one sort or another.

It seemed as though Killian was determined to stick around. And Emma was thankful. For the first time in a long time, she had a friend, someone who was genuinely happy to see her each morning. She found herself becoming more and more happy to see him too.

The next week came and went quicker than ever, much to Emma's delight, and suddenly it was Friday.

Specifically, the Friday of the dance.

Emma had already decided how to get a dress.

One of the older girls at the home had one that Emma had seen a few days ago and had fallen in love with.

She got ready quietly, not wanting to draw any attention. If she told Ingrid about the dance, she knew she'd never hear the end of it. Killian, of course, had insisted in picking her up, so Emma had used a movie as an explanation for his presence.

Looking in the mirror for the hundredth time, she was somewhat happy with the result of her efforts. The dress she'd borrowed was red with a scooped out neckline and came down to just below her knees with three quarter length sleeves. It was beautiful, and hopefully Killian would think the same.

Just as the thought went through her mind, the doorbell rang and Emma rushed downstairs to answer it before Ingrid could. As soon as she reached it, she shouted a goodbye and rushed outside, eager to be out of the house. She pretty much ran into Killian's arms and almost knocked him over into the sleet that lined the door frame. As soon as she took a step back, Killian's jaw dropped.

“What?” Emma asked innocently. “Don't you like it?” She spun around, feeling slightly giddy. Killian shook his head in disbelief. “You look stunning, Swan.”

Blushing, Emma looked him up and down. He wore dark jeans and a suit top over a white tee, looking every bit as handsome as usual. “Yeah, well you don't look too bad yourself.” She replied. The two smiled at each other for a while before Killian took her hand and led her to the school, lightposts lighting the way every few meters.

Their hands stayed together the whole way there.

–

The night had been perfect so far. Emma had made her way to the bathroom while Killian spent some time with his friends. On the way in, she passed a girl she didn't recognise. Something about the girl seemed familiar, perhaps the black curly hair. A crowd of people formed around her, cutting her off from Emma's vision.

Emma quickly shook away the thought and took a break.

She was having a really good time. Though she was scared to admit it, she'd managed to warm up to Killian, in ways she never would have imagined. She took her time, waiting for the instinct to run came over her, but oddly, it never did.

After some time, Emma looked at her refreshed reflection once more before she made her way back out into the hall. She looked around for Killian, instead finding a circle of people where she'd left him. Pushing her way to the centre of the circle, she stopped short. Her breathing halted.

Because at the centre of attention was Killian, with his arms around the black-haired stranger, their lips pressed together. She must have let out an audible gasp, as Killian suddenly pulled away from the girl, eyes wide as he saw her.

“Emma,” He began, but Emma had already turned away and started towards the exit. Tears started to well in her eyes as she burst through the doors into the cold air. Was she an idiot? The stranger with the dark hair.

Milah. Of course it had been Milah.

“Emma!” Killian shouted again, still following her. “Emma, please stop.” 

Emma slowed, but kept walking, throwing back a “Why should I?” over her shoulder.

She soon felt his hand on her arm, pleading her to turn around. She did and attempted to glare through the tears that had started to fall.

“Emma, I didn't know she was going to come, I'm sorry.” Killian said desperately, keeping his hold on her arm. Emma let her arms fall to her sides and scoffed. Of course he didn't.

“Right. Look, I'm happy for you. Really, you know, you get to be with her again. It's great.” Tears now fell freely down her cheeks as she tried to turn once more. 

Killian let her walk a few steps before running in front of her. “Emma, I can't lose this. Not after these past few weeks. You've become such a good friend, I don't...”

Emma shook her head, defeat most likely evident on her face. “It was only a matter of time anyway.”

She turned and left.

This time, he let her.

–

_ Killian, _

_ Thought I should let you know I'm leaving the state. Getting shipped off to another home for the New Year. I meant what I said the other night, that I'm happy for you and Milah. I know how much you care about her. Merry Christmas, I guess. Just promise me you're not going to turn me into some unfinished business for yourself, okay? You need to let me go. We both knew it was going to happen eventually. This is what I was talking about when I said I don't like getting attached. I don't really know how to say goodbye, so I'm not gonna try. _

_ Thanks for everything _

_ Emma _

–

10 Years Later

–

Emma's day was  _ not _ off to a great start.

Sleeping through the alarm was considered relatively normal in her standards, but dropping her coffee and burning her eggs was not. With only mild swearing and catastrophes, she managed to make her way out of her apartment ready to catch the skip she'd been working on for the past few weeks.

That was the plan. Until she reached her trusty Bug to find it harbouring a dead battery. Audibly groaning, Emma maturely kicked the hubcap of the front wheel, pulling out her phone to call a mechanic.

No response. The next best thing was a tow truck that could at least get the car to the mechanic. One short conversation with a grumpy driver later and Emma found herself sitting on the curb of the apartment block. She pretended not to notice the strange looks passers-by gave her as they walked along the road.

Sat alone, Emma let herself wallow in self-pity. Why today? It was Christmas Eve, and for the first time in a decade, she had actually been looking forward to the holiday. Maybe it was the security of having a job and a place to call 'home'? For what it was worth, it wasn't going well so far.

So engrossed in her wallowing, Emma barely noticed the truck pull up.

She opted to sit in her Bug as it was towed rather than with the driver, out of both a want for privacy and a value of self hygiene. She scrolled through her phone during the trip, seeing pictures of happy families everywhere getting ready for Christmas. She was slightly sick of it. Luckily for her, the trip to the mechanic was shorter than she had thought, and before she knew it she was off her phone, paying the tower, and making her way into the mechanic.

“Hello?!” She called out, voice echoing slightly around the spacious rooms. There were cars everywhere; some on the ground, some on an angle, and some resting on high platforms. Emma dared not touch anything in fear of getting grease marks everywhere. She called out again and this time, a grunt was the only response she got.

It was then that she saw a mop of black hair sticking out from under a car a few meters away. “Excuse me, I tried to ring before but I couldn't get a hold of anyone. I'm looking for...”

“I heard your call, didn't answer it.” The head replied. His accent was definitely British, something that Emma had noticed was becoming more and more common. Emma stopped daydreaming and realised what the man had said.

“Why the hell would you do that?” She exclaimed, resting her hands on her hips. She heard the man let out an exasperated sigh before replying. “Because I'm here at work all alone on Christmas Eve, does it surprise you that I'm not...” The man pulled himself out from under the car but stopped short soon after.

It was only then that Emma looked at him properly, realising _ who _ exactly was under all those layers of grease.

“Emma?”

The pair simply stared at each other for a few seconds, both with wide eyes. She should have recognised the accent; it sounded exactly the same. His jaw had grown more prominent and was now peppered with dark gingery stubble. His hair was longer, a fringe now easily hanging over his eyes, but it was still the same raven black. Emma was the next to speak.

“Killian Jones, what are the chances.” She kept her voice light, worried that if she didn't, her true feelings would show. The feelings that showed how much she missed him when she left 10 years ago. Killian shook his head slightly as if waking himself from a daydream. “Yeah.” He stuttered. “It's good to see you.”

Emma smiled softly, thrilled when he smiled back. “Tell me, how did you end up as a mechanic in Boston?” She asked, folding her arms over her chest. Letting out a soft laugh, Killian ducked his head, just like he did when they were younger.

“I guess circumstances brought me here.” Emma raised an eyebrow, silently asking for more. “It's too complicated for now, Swan. What about you, lass?”

Emma's heart lurched at hearing him call her Swan again. It brought her back to the week they spent together all that time ago. She chose not to respond to the question. In response to her silence, Killian reached for a rag and made an attempt to wipe his hands, a good idea if the rag had been clean. Moving towards her, Emma got a look at his eyes, bright blue like before, but slightly aged as if some sadness was behind them.

“I assume,” he began, now standing opposite her, “you have a car that needs some assistance?” Emma nodded, leading him out the front where the Bug was waiting.

One new battery later, Emma was sitting in the driver's seat ready to drive out. It felt like something was stopping her from putting her foot on the accelerator, stopping her from leaving. As it turned out, that something was Killian knocking on her side window. Rolling her eyes, she reached for the handle and wound the window down.

“Have a drink with me,” he asked, eyebrow cocked to one side. The only thing spoiling the confident, bold display was his bashful smile and the way he scratched behind his ear. Emma felt like that 15 year old girl again being asked out to the school dance. Looking up at him, she knew her answer was the same.

“Pick me up at 8?” She said, a smile spreading over her face. “I mean, a gentleman always picks up the girl, right?” Killian let out a laugh, most likely remembering his determination in the past.

“I would if I could, lass. Unfortunately, I'll be here.” He gestured at the shop behind him. 

Emma leant down to adjust her seat and turned the key. “Fine. Meet you  _ here  _ at 8 then.”

With that, she drove away, looking back in her mirror to find a smiling Killian watching her go.

–

The bar was packed with people, most celebrating in groups. Emma and Killian found a table in a darker corner of the room, slipping into their seats in an attempt to avoid the chaos around them.

She had sat outside her apartment in the Bug for a time before toughening and driving to the shop. Emma had tried to distract herself in the car, turning on the radio only to find cheesy Christmas tunes on every channel. She pulled up to the shop not long after, greeted by a dumbstruck Killian before they made their way on foot.

Drinks were ordered quickly as Emma tried to come up with something to fill the awkward silence that was bound to set it sooner or later. Though to her surprise, small talk was never easier than with Killian.

“So Jones, why are you spending Christmas Eve with me instead of your family?” Emma asked, taking a sip of the drink that had made its way to their table. Killian, mid sip, slowly swallowed and brought his glass down to the table. “I'm, uh, pretty much on my own at the moment.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Really? What about your parents? And didn't you have a brother?” Killian grew quiet at the query, reaching for his glass once more and downing a large gulp. Emma kept looking at him, trying to meet his eyes; he looked around the room, clearly uncomfortable. “My brother, he passed away a few years ago.”

Emma's mouth dropped open, an apology ready. He interrupted her, waving a hand to dismiss her. “It's okay, love. You had no way of knowing.” Still feeling guilty, Emma reached over to cover his hand with hers.

“I'm sorry.” She said anyway. “And your parents?” Killian let out a low laugh before replying, voice slightly self-deprecating. “No luck there either I'm afraid. My parents haven't been around for more than 10 years.”

Emma's eyes widened in shock. “So when we met...” Killian simply nodded and let out a 'mhm' under his breath. “I had no idea.” She felt horrible. Everything he'd asked about her life, making her feel special, like she had a friend, and she'd never done the same for him.

“It wasn't really something I wanted to broadcast. My brother did a good job taking care of us. That was enough.” Emma just nodded, eyes full of guilt and sorrow. She remembered seeing Killian's brother around the school a few times, even before her and Killian had met. He loved his brother. Emma knew how much even one family member could mean to someone.

And now Killian had no one. Just like her.

“Enough about me.” Killian said, taking another sip of his drink. “What brings you to Boston? Specifically, here, with me.” His trademark smirk formed on his face, but it didn't do anything to make Emma feel like sharing. “Trust me, I haven't had enough to drink for that conversation.” Killian held up his hands in surrender and started back with the small talk.

It only took a few more drinks before Emma felt herself lighten up. It was nice, not having to keep up her walls all the time, even if alcohol had something to do with it.

Talking remained easy with Killian. Even just talking about nothing at all, which she'd normally consider torture, felt so right.

Maybe it was the drink, but something told her it was more than that.

Killian was halfway through telling a story about his desperate job hunt that lead him to the mechanic shop when Emma suggested they get out of the crowded bar. More and more party groups had arrived the closer it got to midnight, so the pair quickly gathered their coats and made their way outside.

Walking down the street, Emma felt Killian pull her arm through his and kept them linked as they walked towards her apartment. He finished his story as they walked, the conversation changing to the drama they'd both faced in their years apart.

“I spent time as a dock worker. Cleaning seagull poo and loose scales from the decks,” Killian complained. Emma scoffed in response, letting out a laugh when she saw the betrayed look on his face. The two of them were most likely slightly tipsy, but they were having fun. Something Emma was pretty certain the  _ both  _ of them could use.

“Got anything better, Swan?” Killian pointed out, leaning in closer to her. Emma just lifted her chin and nodded firmly. “Indeed I do.” She began. “I spent 11 months in a corrections facility after a boyfriend let me do the time for his petty crime.”

She probably should have stopped there, but the words kept coming.

“To make matters worse it turned out he'd knocked me up. Nine months later I had to give birth all alone and let the baby be taken away for adoption.”

Killian halted in his tracks, sobering up quickly. He pulled Emma in for a tight hug, the physical contact warming Emma from the inside out.

“That sounds terrible, Emma. I shouldn't have asked, I'm so sorry.” He pleaded, slowly pulling away from the hug but keeping his hands on her shoulders. Emma looked back at him, green eyes meeting blue. “That's okay, it was a while ago. I've tried to, move past it, you know? Thanks for understanding, though. And, you know, not judging or anything.” She said softly. Killian tilted his head slightly, finger coming up to tap his lips, eyes full of suggestiveness and challenge.

“Perhaps gratitude is in order now.” He said, his voice husky. Emma let out a mocking laugh and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that's what the thank you was for.” She said. Killian leaned forward on the balls of his feet, tucking his arms behind his back. “Is that all my understanding is worth to you?”

Emma looked back at him with a smug smile on her face. “Please, you couldn't handle it.”

“Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it.” He replied, popping the 't', eyes dangerous and inviting. Emma was never one to back down from a challenge. Holding his gaze right up until the last minute, she grabbed hold of the lapels of his suit jacket and abruptly pulled him towards her, crashing her lips to his.

The second their lips connected, Emma knew she was in trouble. She ran her fingers through his dark hair as they kissed, just like she'd secretly imagined doing 10 years ago. She felt Killian breathe into the kiss as his hand reached up to cradle her head. Their lips separated for a millisecond, just long enough for them to take a breath, before they dove back in.

It was everything Emma had thought it would be, if maybe mixed with the taste of alcohol. It was all fire and pent up passion that had been building the whole night. She remembered seeing Killian kissing Milah the night at the dance and wondering what it would have been like.

Now she couldn't bring herself to hate Milah for wanting more.

At the thought of Milah, Emma pulled herself away, Killian following her, causing them to sway slightly. She kept her hands tight to his jacket and her forehead pressed to his.

“That was...” Killian began, drifting off in search of something to say. Taking a deep breath, Emma filled in the blank for him. “A one time thing.” Still breathless, she pushed him away. At his confused face, she kept going. “You've got Milah, you can't be doing this.”

Killian tried to say something but Emma didn't let him finish. “Thanks for the night, it was great seeing you after all this time. I can get myself home from here.” She turned to walk away, suddenly hit with memories of the same thing happening at the school dance.

“Emma, stop.” Killian called out. “Please, I'm not letting this happen again.” He caught up with her before she shot him down again. 

“Look, we've been drinking, probably in no mind to do this so you may as well...”

“I never got back with Milah when you left.”

Emma stopped short, eye widening as they tried to catch their breath. Emma searched desperately for something to say but came up short. “Why?” She managed to choke out. Killian reached out and took both her hands in his, pulling her close.

“Because even though we were 15, I knew you were something special. I knew...” Killian stopped and let out a sigh.

“I knew that it was you. It was going to be you. The only question was when.”

Emma felt tears well up in her eyes as she stared up at him. This man, who used to be the boy with the English accent who she met in detention one Christmas. Who could have known after all this time, he'd come to mean so much to her. She took a small step towards him, his eyes now looking glassy and leant up until their lips met.

This time it was softer and slower but by no means less passionate. She felt a single tear fell as she tightened her grip on him, swaying them slightly. Pulling away, they looked into each other's eyes, both with soft, silly smiles on their faces.

“So, Swan,” Killian asked, bumping his nose with hers. “what'd you say?”

“To what?” She asked, before correcting herself quickly. “Oh, take a leap of faith, right? Killian simply dipped his head once, gaze looking between her eyes and lips. Emma placed another soft kiss on his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. “That a yes?” He asked. She simply went up on her toes for a tight hug, burrowing her face in his neck.

“Yeah.” She whispered, voice soft in his ear. He wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around just like he did in detention 10 years ago.

–

Two years later, Killian proposed on Christmas Eve, the ring box full of glitter, just like the stuff they'd thrown on each other years ago. The ring itself, a simply silver band encrusted with small flicks of diamond surrounding a larger one in the middle, was also covered in the stuff, but it didn't matter.

Emma's answer was the same as always.

_ Take a leap of faith? _

_ Yes, always. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed :)


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